Heroes DO Exist
by CarpeDiemForLife
Summary: Post-Reichenbach. A year later, John receives a letter that touches his heart. This letter also introduces John to a lovely young woman named Mary Morstan.
1. Chapter 1

A year had passed since Sherlock's death, and John Watson was in the slow progress of recovering. He knew that he would never _fully_ recover—the very idea was laughable—but he had settled into a steady pattern in his life, becoming used to the monotonous days filled with tantalizing memories of the 'glory days' with his best friend, Sherlock Holmes.

One day, John returned home from work and found that he had received a letter. Thinking little of it, John grabbed the envelope and trudged up the steps to his flat. Hanging up his coat, John carelessly threw the letter onto the table as he boiled water for his tea. When he finally had the fresh hot cup in his hand, John retrieved the envelope, scanning the front quickly. He frowned slightly. The address was not one that he recognized.

The envelope was quickly sliced open, and John could see two folded pieces of paper inside. Pulling out the first, he unfolded its creases and began to read.

_Dear Dr. John Watson,_

_ I teach a Year 4 class at Parkview Primary School, and today I gave my students an assignment to write a letter to their heroes. Most students chose fictional characters or family members, but one little girl, Anna Clover, proclaimed spiritedly that her heroes were Sherlock Holmes and John Watson._

_Though I explained that the purpose of the exercise was simply to write the letter and not to send it, Anna insisted that hers be mailed. I tried to explain very gently that Mr. Holmes would be unable to receive her letter due to his passing, but Anna was adamant that you at least should have it._

_I have no doubt that you receive copious amounts of mail from devoted fans, and I understand if you are uninterested in replying to Anna; however, I implore you to consider it. She deeply admires both you and the late Mr. Holmes, and I believe it would mean a great deal to her to hear back from you. If you need to contact me for any reason, you can reach me at .uk._

_Thank you for your time and consideration._

_Cordially,_

_Ms. Mary Morstan_

John didn't realize that his hands were trembling until his eyes had finished absorbing every last word. Gently, he set the now utterly unimportant tea cup down on the table.

_Copious amounts of mail..._ John smiled in affectionate amusement. What a sweet, kind, misguided notion. Didn't this woman know that practically everyone believed Sherlock was a fake? In fact, John had been under the impression that _everyone_ felt this way, and though he hated to admit it (he could hear Sherlock clearly in his mind: _Why should _you _care what they think about _me?), it hurt John. It struck him to his very core in a way that made his insides ache and his heart cry out at the injustice.

But this letter... Perhaps John was becoming too emotional over it. After all, Anna Clover was only a child, so what did it matter that she believed in Sherlock?

But it did. It mattered immensely. Just the knowledge that another person in the world believed in him the way that John did... The feeling was indescribable.

John began to laugh happily as tears of relief sprang to his eyes. A weight that he had never consciously acknowledged was lifted from the pit of his stomach, leaving John a much lighter man, light enough to float away. A warmth he hadn't experienced for many months flooded through him, and John pulled out the second paper with a big smile.

MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES AND MR. JOHN WATSON

Your my heroes! Mr. Holmes is my hero becuase he is so smart, and Mr. Watson is my hero becuase he is very nice and helpful. Two years ago you saved my dad from money problems. He still talks about you and I have heard all about your fun adventures! All of Britain is graitful towards you, and I'm very happy that you helped my dad. My family and I respeckt you a lot. Thank you for everything you've done.

Love,

Anna

On the other side of the card was a very colorful picture of a "My Heroes" badge drawn in crayon, with little yellow smiles drawn randomly around it. The tears lingered in John's eyes as he read over the girl's message for a second time. Her spelling errors made him chuckle fondly, and her innocent kindness and admiration was touching. In that instant, John realized he wanted to repay Anna Clover for the feelings she had awakened in him.

Without a second thought, John immediately rushed into the living room with the letter, plopping in his armchair and pulling his computer onto his lap. Bringing up his email, John quickly entered the teacher's email address and then typed the following:

_Ms. Morstan,_

_Anna's card has left me speechless. I am honored that she considers Sherlock and I to be heroes. I would love to respond to Anna, but if you'll allow me to, I would love to do even more than that. Would you permit me to visit your classroom and meet Miss Clover? Perhaps I could talk to the students briefly about Sherlock. Sherlock and I dealt with many interesting cases, some of which I believe would be fun for your students to hear about. If this is an intrusion on your class, I understand. Simply tell me so and I will just write Anna a letter. But if the idea appeals to you, please suggest a time that I could come in. Thank you!_

_-John Watson_

-Sent-

An hour later, a chime indicated that John had received a new email.

_Dr. Watson,_

_ I think that is a wonderful idea! Thank you for the kind offer. I know that Anna will be ecstatic, and the other students will surely enjoy your stories. Friday, 1:00?_

John grinned cheerfully, relieved that she had not rejected his request.

_Ms. Morstan,_

_ I'll be there. You can count on it._


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's note: Very short chapter. Not really a chapter even, just a filler. But I had to write it. It felt necessary. I hope you like it! Please review if you'd like to see more. Thanks for the very nice reviews I've already gotten!_

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><p>John tread a familiar path across the grass towards Sherlock's headstone, the same path he always traveled on his way to visit Sherlock's grave. But for the very first time, he was smiling. Even if the smile was small, it was there.<p>

"I wanted to tell you something," he said abruptly, the name engraved in black marble staring back at him just as silently as the real Sherlock would have. "We got a letter today. Do you remember the time you told me that heroes don't exist? And that, if they did, you wouldn't be one? Well..."

John's lips twitched slightly, not quite managing a smirk, but still smiling in a rather self-satisfied way.

"...you were wrong. You _are_ a hero. According to one Miss Anna Clover. Do you remember the Clover case, Sherlock? You probably don't, you bloody git. Too boring for your taste. Took you less than thirty minutes to set the police straight on that one. Well, anyways, Anna Clover remembers. We're her heroes. The both of us. She sent a nice letter in the mail: handwritten, colored, the works. You wouldn't have appreciated it much I suppose. I did though. I appreciated it a lot. And I had to tell you.

"So you see, Sherlock? You're not right about everything, you arrogant cad. You've just been proved wrong by a 4th Year girl. ...So there."


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's note: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy this. Please review!_

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><p>Stepping into the main office of Parkview Primary School, John gave the secretary a warm smile and received one in return.<p>

"How can I help you?" she asked politely.

"I'm scheduled to visit Ms. Morstan's 4th Year class today at 1:00."

"Ah yes... Dr. John Watson?" John nodded. The woman picked up a badge from her desk and handed it to him. "Here is your Visitor's Badge. Miss Morstan's classroom is just down that hall; take a left and it's the first classroom on your right. Have a good day!"

"Yes, thank you. Have a good day."

Pinning the badge to his shirt, John followed the secretary's directions and soon found himself facing a wooden door with a label stating –Miss Morstan- on the small window in the door. Glancing down at his watch, John saw that he was about five minutes early. He stood still for a moment, wondering whether he should wait or just go ahead and knock. His pause was truly only an excuse to waste time: John was feeling a bit nervous about the whole affair. What if the students weren't interested in his stories about Sherlock? What if he got emotional in front of them? What if he didn't live up to Anna's expectations?

Scolding himself for his cowardly behavior (_I fought in Afghanistan for Christ's sake_, he thought), John closed his eyes and released a deep breath. Clearing his throat, John straightened his jacket and turned to face the door, clicking his heels in a very military fashion as he did so. Before he could raise his hand to knock, John realized that he had already been spotted by the teacher.

_So this is Ms. Morstan_... he thought, examining her as she addressed the class momentarily before crossing the room to the door. _She's... young. She's lovely._

Ms. Mary Morstan was relatively short, perhaps 5'3", and looked to be in her late 20s, early 30s at the oldest. Her blonde hair hung down past her shoulders, and her hazel eyes were large and round in a way that gave her expression a very sweet, innocent air. Even without the eyes, John was sure that she would give this impression anyways. Ms. Morstan was by no means the most beautiful woman John had ever encountered, not at all. She had nothing of the sharp, stunning attraction of Irene Adler, and her features were not soft enough for her to be considered a delicate beauty. However, it was her smile that set her apart from anyone John had ever met. Her smile was so kind, so understanding. John felt quite sure that he had never seen such a naturally sympathetic, affable expression before, and it all stemmed from the gentle radiance of her smile.

Composing himself from his thoughts, John returned Ms. Morstan's smile and inclined his head respectfully as she opened the door to him. Raising her finger, she said quietly,

"One moment, Dr. Watson."

Walking back into the room, Ms. Morstan announced,

"Class, today we have a special visitor. Anna, will you stand up for a moment please?"

John could not see the students from where he stood, but he heard the immediate whisperings of children and a chair scraping against the floor.

"Yes Miss Morstan?"

"Our visitor is here today most especially for you Anna. May I introduce, Dr. John Watson." Ms. Morstan extended her arm towards John and, following her cue, he entered the room and walked to her side.

John smiled at the students and quickly locked eyes with Anna Clover. The little girl's blue eyes had shot open and her jaw had dropped in shock. This expression was quickly replaced with a look of absolute delight. A broad grin popped onto Anna's face and she ran up the aisle, her brown curls bouncing madly. Anna flung her arms around John's midsection as she squealed excitedly. Though he was stunned, John soon knelt down and wrapped his arms around Anna, returning the hug. Even when Anna pulled away he stayed kneeling on the ground, smiling gratefully at the enthusiastic young girl. All his fears dissipated instantly and for the first time in a long time, he felt truly happy. He could have cried for joy, but he didn't want to appear unprofessional in front of the children.

"Dr. Watson!" she cried. "You came because of my letter, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did," he confirmed.

"You _are_ nice!" she concluded proudly, "Just like I said. I was right!" John laughed cheerfully, squeezing her hand gently.

"I'm glad you think so. And I'm very glad you mailed me that letter. It was the absolute kindest thing that anyone has ever done for me, and I know Sherlock would have appreciated it as well."

Well... little white lies in such circumstances are hardly reprehensible.

Anna was still flushed with glee and she seemed entirely overcome to hear her hero complimenting her so grandly. Ms. Morstan leaned down and placed a gentle hand on Anna's back.

"Why don't you go back to your seat, Anna? Dr. Watson is going to talk to the whole class now." Anna nodded and stared intensely at John for a moment more as though she were absorbing the moment.

"All thanks to you," added Ms. Morstan. "You did very well Anna."

Anna flashed her teacher a bright grin before running back to her seat, sitting down quickly. Her back was straight and she was poised leaning forward, sitting all the way on the edge of her seat, the very picture of an enthralled, attentive listener.

"Now, Dr. John Watson has had many exciting experiences in his time," Ms. Morstan addressed to her students, "Many of you may have heard of the famous consulting detective, Mr. Sherlock Holmes. [A few whispers spread through the room] Dr. Watson had the extraordinary privilege of working with Mr. Holmes and collaborating with him and the police on many different cases. Now, Dr. Watson has very kindly offered to share some of his experiences with us, so I want you to all be very respectful and attentive, understood?"

"I heard that Sherlock Holmes was a fraud," one boy called out in a smug tone of judgmental disbelief. Ms. Morstan looked at him sternly and was about to reprimand him when John abruptly spoke.

"He wasn't." John struggled to keep his tone from being clipped. They were just children after all; they'd never done any harm to Sherlock. "Sherlock was as true as they come. And I know this, for sure, because I lived with him. For months. I saw everything he did, and no one, not a single person alive, could fake all that. He was brilliant. Truly brilliant. The story that circulated through the papers that he was a fraud... they were all wrong. Those of us who knew Sherlock, I mean _really knew_ him... know that he was everything he claimed to be. And more. And I knew him best of all."

"_Yeah_, Jake," chimed in Anna, throwing her classmate a dirty look. John gave a start and looked at Anna in surprise as her high-pitched voice broke through his weighty emotions. "My parents believe in Mr. Holmes. _They_ said that anyone who met him could never believe that he was a fake. They said that he could know things about you that no one else could, just by looking at you. Can you do that Jake?"

"Alright, that's enough Anna, thank you," cut in Ms. Morstan gently. The boy Jake grumbled a bit and slouched in his seat, but John was relieved to find that the rest of the class looked happy, and eager to hear more. It looked as though most of them were willing to listen and believe, trusting Anna's opinion over Jake's.

"Right, well... Shall I just... go ahead and talk then?" John asked the teacher hesitantly. Ms. Morstan's brown eyes twinkled, clouding John's thoughts momentarily as he found himself enchanted. She began to speak again, and John snapped out of it.

"Well, _I_ thought that perhaps the students would... like to take a trip outside?" A loud cheer went up from the class, and their teacher held up a hand to quiet them, though she was grinning. "Alright everyone, we'll head out to the field. Bring your backpacks. Line up single file at the door. [The students rushed up in a flurry] No running!"

Once the children had successfully arranged themselves in an orderly line, John decided to bring up the rear, so he stepped into place behind the last student.

"Alright, straight out to the field. Go ahead."

The students began to march out, moving as quickly as their little legs would allow them. Ms. Morstan stationed herself by the door, ushering everyone out. When John followed the line out like a responsible student, she was surprised but gave a tinkling laugh. A very warm, proud feeling filled John at the knowledge that he had amused her. John continued to follow the line outside as Ms. Morstan locked up the room.

Soon, she caught up and began to walk beside him.

"_You_ did not have to line up single file with the class," she remarked teasingly. John pretended to look surprised at this.

"Oh! I simply assumed that you meant everyone. I felt compelled to follow your instructions." Ms. Morstan shook her head slightly at his silliness, but it was clear from her uncontrollable smile that he had very much amused her. They made the rest of the trek outside in a comfortable silence.

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><p>"...and sure enough, the footprints made it clear that Sherlock had been right all along. The son had been falsely accused; in fact, he had been trying his best to <em>protect<em> his father's business."

"But who did it?" cried one student. John looked around at all the rapt kids, acting very dramatic about the whole thing.

"It was the niece," he finally revealed. The students stared at him amazedly, some of them even gasped in shock. "You see, the niece had so little experience with men that she found herself defenseless against the charms of the one man outside her family who visited often."

"The gambler!" exclaimed another student, suddenly making the connection. A round of gasps and shouts went up at this as the class began to understand.

"So the niece, though she loved her uncle dearly, stole the jewels and she and the gambler ran off together. Sherlock tracked down the jewels and returned them to Mr. Holder, but the niece and the gambler remained hidden. Because the jewels were recovered, Sherlock did not feel it necessary to continue the search for the runaway couple. And so, the case was closed."

John grinned as all the children turned to each other and were immediately abuzz with discussing how it all tied together, and this, and that.

Glancing up at Ms. Morstan (who was seated behind the crowd of children sitting in front of John), he smiled and was thrilled to receive a very enthusiastic smile in return. Tearing himself away from her gaze, John looked back at the talkative students and tried to think of what story he could tell them next. Perhaps the story of the Geek Brigade?

Before he had decided, a sharp bell rang out loud and clear. About half of the students immediately jumped up and ran off, eager to leave now that school was over. But it warmed John's heart to see how the other half gave exclamations of sadness and seemed reluctant to leave. These children stayed around for another minute or so, asking John their last few questions. Finally, all but Anna Clover had left (due to Ms. Morstan's insistence that they go lest they miss their buses).

Anna walked up to John and beamed at him.

"Thank you for coming today Dr. Watson. It was the best day ever!" Stepping forward, Anna hugged him again, to which John patted her head gently. Anna let go and flashed him one last smile before running off. John turned his attention now to Ms. Morstan who was looking right back at him.

"YOU'RE MY HERO!" John and Ms. Morstan both turned in surprise to see that Anna Clover had stopped some way down the field and evidently decided to turn back around to shout that one last thing. This time she truly did turn and run off, for good.

John stayed still, watching the little girl run. A small, almost sad, smile was on his lips and he could feel the tears of joy and gratitude that he'd been restraining finally make their way to his eyes.

"She's a very sweet girl, isn't she?" John hurriedly blinked away the tears as Ms. Morstan's soft voice cut through his daze.

"She's wonderful," he agreed.

"I can't thank you enough for coming in. The class really enjoyed your stories, and it was clear how happy Anna was to meet you."

"The pleasure was all mine, I promise," he replied with a chuckle, "Thank you for the opportunity." Ms. Morstan gave a small dimpled smile. Something in the tender look in John's eyes made her blush slightly, and she looked down at her hands modestly.

"Well, I must go and, well, pack my things for the day," she said quickly.

"May I, uh, come with you, perhaps? I would like very much to... take you out for coffee, if you'd... like," he said nervously. Ms. Morstan looked up quickly and met his eyes. There was something in the kind honesty of his expression that made her feel special under his gaze. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but all the same, her blush deepened at his proclaimed interest in her.

"I would like that very much," she replied confidently, despite her pink cheeks. John felt a rush of delighted relief and gave her a huge smile. Together they walked into the building so that she could collect her things before they headed out.


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's note: I know I never update, well, basically_ any_ of my stories _ever_, so the biggest of thanks to anyone still reading this. This chapter is dedicated to alfiesurprise101 because quite frankly, without them, I would probably not have had the motivation to write this. I hope this continues to measure up to what you want in this story! Please review and leave any critiques._

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><p>"So there was enough talk about me today. Why don't you tell me some about you?" suggested John.<p>

"I object!" she replied with a teasing smile, "The talking today was much more about Sherlock Holmes. In fact, you spoke very little about yourself. You're very humble about your part in each of those adventures." John shrugged.

"It really isn't humility, I simply didn't have a large part in many of them. I was always just _there_, observing Sherlock in constant amazement."

"I think you did more than you give yourself credit for," replied Miss Morstan softly. Her expression was so sincere and her words so kind that John felt a wave of happiness wash over him. Though she hardly even knew John, she was already expressing this high opinion of him. John hadn't felt appreciated at all in that way since... well, since Sherlock. He didn't even mind the fact that there was really no way for her to know whether he'd done much or not, it was her confidence that struck him.

Realizing that he was staring into her eyes in silence, John jolted himself and gave a nervous chuckle, snapping his gaze down at the table briefly to regain his thoughts.

"Thank you, Miss Morstan. It's very kind of you to say so."

"Please, it's... it's alright if you call me Mary," she assured him, "That is, well, I mean... may I call you John?"

"Oh! Of course, yeah sure, that would be... that would be good." John cleared his throat and nodded formally. "Very good."

"Alright then, well _John_... I truly should like very much to hear more about you."

"Well, sure, ok. So... I served in Afghanistan as an army doctor. I got shot in the shoulder and I was sent home. I uh... came back to London, met Sherlock, and then... we got a flat together. Just like that. It was... odd, but it was a nice arrangement. Sherlock then started bringing me along with him on cases—he didn't get on very well with the police force, particularly Anderson on forensics—and so... I don't know, it just became our habit. Working together. I contributed what I could. I was never brilliant or intuitive like him of course but I always... was there to support him and I helped keep him in line a bit, when I could.

"Then the rest I reckon you know from the papers. Moriarty came into the picture and then... well. Anyways, Sherlock is... gone now and I've only recently returned to the flat we once shared. It's been hard, but I'm learning to cope. But God, I do miss him. He was... my best friend."

John's voice began to choke with emotions and he stared firmly into the table, willing himself not to tear up or lose control. She must think him a bumbling, sentimental fool- but no, that would be Sherlock's reaction, not Mary Morstan's reaction. From what he knew of her just from this one day, her heart was probably already reaching out to him. That thought was somehow comforting.

"I can see that he meant quite a lot to you." John glanced up and met Mary's eyes as she gave him a gentle smile. "I'm so sorry for what's happened."

"I'm... I'm sorry for dampening the mood like that; that was terrible of me, truly, I'm sorry," he stuttered.

"No!" she exclaimed instantly. "Please, don't be. I... I know there isn't much I can do to help you, but you can always tell me anything. I truly do want to know. I'm glad to listen."

"Thank you Mary. And... you do help. I know we've only just met today but..." John gave a slight chuckle as he considered whether his next words would sound nice or just creepy. It was probably stupid to say something like this when you'd only known someone for a few hours, but John decided for once to throw caution to the wind. "...your smile is absolutely beautiful and stunning and... genuine, and it alone has already made me feel better."

Mary's cheeks flushed with color and a smile burst onto her face, too large to be contained. John, in turn, could not help but to smile back.

"Thank you, John. I... I'm flattered. And I'm very glad of that." John cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed, though massively relieved that she hadn't found him too forward or any such thing.

"So. I believe it is your turn to speak," he said lightly.

"Oh! Yes, well... I've always known that I wanted to be a teacher. I studied and got my degree in education. For now I enjoy working with the younger children, but I want to keep my options open and flexible. I live with my father, and we're very close. I can't imagine how hard that it will be to leave him if I ever do... move out. I'm an only child and my mother died years ago.

"Frankly I... don't have much of a social life." Mary emitted a quiet, seemingly embarrassed, laugh at her own expense. "I have few friends to speak of."

"I find that incredibly hard to believe," interjected John softly.

"Well I don't have any trouble getting on with people, and I certainly am friendly with my colleagues but... certainly no one important sticks out in my life, like Sherlock does for you. Other than my father of course, but that isn't the same at all."

"Mary, I've decided!" proclaimed John suddenly, a determined expression on his face. Mary was startled a bit by his sudden intensity, so she watched him doe-eyed as he continued speaking. "You and I shall spend many more afternoons getting coffee together, and then we shall branch out and partake in other similar activities such as strolling in the park or grabbing a sandwich from the deli, and we shall become the closest of friends."

Mary laughed energetically at this new plan.

"Oh is that so John?" she asked coyly. "You've simply decided that at this very moment and all on your own?" John's face relaxed and he smiled sheepishly.

"Well... I know that _I'd_ like that. Would... _you_... like it?"

Mary met his gaze silently, still smiling.

"You know, John... I think I would like that very much."


End file.
